In my memory, Alison was an introverted girl with a smile that was incredibly beautiful. When she smiled, a faint dimple would appear at the corner of her mouth, like it was filled with sugar.

She must have recognized me. For the first time, I thought the student rankings for appearances were a good thing. I checked myself in the mirror over and over, and I was certain she knew who I was.

On the eighty-sixth time I accidentally brushed past her, I saw the surprise and joy in her eyes. I knew she must have known me.

But how could I approach her without being intrusive?

After dismissing five...